Butterflies
by Lottie Lyric
Summary: Harry tries to impress Snape by doing better in Potions. It doesn't go too well... - Set in fifth year, Snape/Harry slash, five-shot based on the idea that falling in love occurs in five stages: butterflies, building, assimilation, honesty, and stability. All five are explained at the beginning of their respective chapters.
1. Butterflies

Stage 1: Butterflies

 _Also known as "happy anxiety," the stage where you get that fluttery feeling in your stomach and you think obsessively about the other's impression of you, because you want to win them over. 'Lust overload' is also common to this phase._

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Harry Potter was going to succeed in Potions if it was the last thing he did.

As he sat alone in the common room one night flipping through his potions book, he knew he would give anything to be able to say he brewed a potion correctly and impressed Severus Snape in the process. He wanted his praise; he wanted to show his Potions Master that he could do something that, up until this point, it seemed he couldn't.

Of course, it wasn't just for Harry's benefit. Having Snape acknowledge the Gryffindor's success in front of the class would serve another important purpose: it would break the illusion that Snape had put up around himself, because that's exactly what it was. He acted coldly towards his students, but Harry knew there something underneath, and he wanted to bring it out. It wasn't anything wrong with the man's heart – surely it was his attitude, his perspective on things that was skewed. It acted as a smudge on an otherwise beautiful picture. On _Snape_.

Where had Harry's feelings for him begun? He honestly didn't know. He didn't know when his icy voice first sent shivers up his spine, or when his relentless insults in class first stabbed him in the heart, when he first _cared_ what he thought of him. And, most of all, he didn't know when he first dreamt about him at night – about him kissing him, holding him, murmuring declarations of love in his ear…

He just couldn't say. But when Harry finally found the page that talked all about Calming Draught, he stopped flipping. Perfect: this was the potion Snape had told them to study up on for homework. For once when he went to Potions, he would be prepared; yes, he was very much looking forward to it. To see those eyes filled with praise for once instead of hate, just _once_ – it would be worth his efforts.

So he sat there on the couch for a long time, studying the potion, its ingredients, smell, hue, and everything else there was to know until he felt he knew it like the back of his hand, so there would be _no way_ he didn't brew it right, as they undoubtedly would have to tomorrow.

Afterwards, Harry shut the book and went up to bed with a hopeful smile on his face.

Of course, when the next day came Harry knew he couldn't be too prepared. He studied throughout every class he had before Potions. He even had his nose in the book as he was walking the halls between classes, only bumping into a few people in the process.

When the bell rang after Transfiguration – his last class before Potions – he hurried over. He was nearly late. Luckily, he got there just as Snape opened the door to let everyone in.

After everyone was settled, the professor stood behind his desk, looking out inscrutably as ever over the group of students he had to teach.

"You will be brewing Calming Draught today. However, I don't want to see any books out. If you all studied the potion for homework like you were supposed to, you shouldn't need them. I will put a list of ingredients and their measurements on the board, but the rest is to be drawn from your memory. As such, I don't expect that many of you will appreciate the challenge… use it as an opportunity to test your limits… but try." Snape turned to the board and with a wave of his wand the ingredients and measurements appeared on it. He faced the students again. "Get to work."

Harry pushed aside the notebook he used to draw magical doodles in whenever Snape was giving a lecture. He hadn't done that in quite some time – why would he when everything he said was so _interesting?_

Harry got up to get the ingredients he needed and went back to his cauldron, fresh determination coursing through his veins. He sorted out the ingredients on the table, very carefully.

It wasn't long before Harry looked up and observed some students going to Snape's desk to ask him questions, or to admit they hadn't studied like they were supposed to. He figured that was the reason that Snape started walking around the room, observing everyone's work. Even Hermione who was next to him seemed to be having some trouble but Harry wasn't going to be one of them. Not this time.

He added ingredient after ingredient, measuring them out warily, putting them in in exactly the right order. He crushed up the mixture until it was exactly as it should be: a creamy paste. He stirred carefully, precisely… only until it was thoroughly mixed…

There. It was complete and time to leave it to brew. Any moment now, he would find out that he made it correctly.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few minutes – but what seemed like hours – he opened them again and looked down, expecting to see a beautifully brewed potion. But as Harry looked down into the swirling concoction, it suddenly stilled completely and turned a muddy brown color.

 _Merlin, no. What did I do wrong?_

Harry's hands were trembling and he was in a state of disbelief. But whatever it was, it was too late to fix it – and now Snape was at his spot, looking at him with a face that depicted scorn and mockery. The professor vanished his potion and bent down to speak in his ear.

"Potter, if you didn't study, just admit it. It's not like I would be surprised based on your history."

Harry glanced up into charcoal eyes. "But I did, Sir, I swear…"

As the professor pulled back and smirked at him, Harry felt an all-too-familiar sensation in his heart. It happened every time he was near Snape. Butterflies in his stomach; his pulse racing; his breath silently catching and faltering. And truthfully, his pants weren't getting any looser under his intense black gaze – he just wanted to reach out, grip his robes, pull him close and kiss every square inch of bare skin available to him.

It was pathetic. Harry knew it was – feeling this way for the person who had just mocked him. But he couldn't help it.

Snape just moved on to the next student without another word, leaving a helplessly love-struck Harry behind. The boy couldn't stop blinking for some reason. It seemed to be the only way to keep his mind semi-clear.

It wasn't until class ended that it sunk in that Harry had failed; that he hadn't broken Snape's hateful mask. He cursed under his breath as he made his way out the door.

Snape's eyes followed the boy as he left. Once everyone had filed out of the room, he shut the door with a wave of his wand. He too had an odd feeling in his chest. It ached in a sweet way, and he couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew he'd felt it before.

"That boy is going to be the death of me," Snape muttered into the empty classroom.

* * *

 **Hi all, the idea just came to me, just a little story to keep you all entertained until 'Something's Missing' gets posted. I'm really struggling with the first chapter of SM, because I'm trying** _ **really**_ **hard to make it my best story so far, because I'm trying to improve. By the way, I promise the second chapter of this story is more interesting, but I always struggle with beginnings...but hey, it's better to take the plot slow than too fast I guess.**

 **It's been found that only about 1% of people review... please don't be part of the 99% that don't, and drop me a comment :) Even if it's to say it sucks.**


	2. Building

Stage 2: Building

 _In which the object of desire dominates the mind. One tries to learn as much as they can about the other person – tries to gather as many facts about them as possible – to further justify their feelings._

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"Harry, what a nice surprise! Please take a seat!" said Dumbledore, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

Harry hadn't originally planned to come to the headmaster's office for this. It was crazy, but he had a lot of questions and he wanted answers, so he had skipped dinner the day of his failed potion attempt to get them – it would be worth every second of his time. After sitting down, he got straight to the point.

"Believe it or not sir, it's about Professor Snape."

"Is it?"

Harry nodded curtly. "I figured if anyone would know what I want to know about him, it would be you."

"I'm glad I was your come-to person. What brings you here about your Potions professor today?"

Harry fidgeted, never having had such curiosity bottled up in all his life. "He's just always been a mystery to me. Have you ever noticed how he acts towards his students – especially me? He's very condescending, and yet I don't think it's because he's a bad guy. It just can't be... could it?"

Dumbledore nodded earnestly, as a means of acknowledging the validity of the question.

"Certainly he's not a bad guy – I trust him completely. But one thing you have to understand Harry, is that your professor has experienced a lot of truly horrible things. He's been through things that no one should have to go through."

"But… what kinds of things?" Harry's curiosity was piqued as he leaned forward a bit in his chair. Dumbledore grinned.

"I hardly think that's something I should tell you. If you want to know, why don't you ask the man himself?"

Ask Snape himself? That would be a long shot, especially for such a personal topic. For some reason images of Snape hexing him into oblivion played like a movie projector in Harry's head.

"Well… I'll try," Harry finally replied, albeit with uncertainty in his voice. "But… do you really think he'd tell me of all people?"

Dumbledore shook his head, conjuring some tea and taking a sip with both hands wrapped around the cup.

"No, not right away. But he would in time I'm sure. He's a much more open and emotional man than he lets on; he never reveals the best of himself," he added with a wink.

"But why not? Why does he never let anyone see his soft side?"

Dumbledore put his cup down. "Appearances, Harry. He has an absolutely vital image to uphold for the good of the Wizarding World. For _all_ of us."

Harry didn't understand exactly what this meant, being unaware of Snape's double agent status. All he cared about though was that it reassured him there was a greater reason for the Potion Master's perceived hostility… nevertheless he was getting frustrated at his lack of understanding, so he said: "For the good of the Wizarding World…? Everything you tell me raises as many questions as it answers."

"Maybe that's the point Harry. I'm answering your questions while at the same time giving you more to fish out answers to. You're not going to get to know _him_ by talking to _me_ after all."

Harry saw his point, but at the same time was glad he found out as much as he did. Every little bit of information helped at this point.

"You're probably right. I won't keep you any longer," said Harry, standing up and getting ready to leave. "Oh, and professor?" he asked, turning around at the door to ask one more question.

"Yes Harry?" said Dumbledore, smiling.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, um… it's just that Christmas is coming up in a few weeks, and I was wondering what kinds of things he likes. I try to get presents for as many people as possible."

A familiar twinkle was in the older wizard's eyes. "An excellent question. Knowing Severus, I rather think that he would like nothing more than for you to tell him how you really feel. Christmas is a time of love and joy, my dear boy."

Harry mentally kicked himself for being so transparent, but at the same time a grin crept over his face as he realized it was confirmation of the headmaster's full support.

"Thank you sir," said Harry before exiting the room and pulling the door shut behind him.

…

Harry couldn't sleep that night. It was impossible. His mind was racing, trying to piece together the things he had learned about the object of his affections.

So he set out under his invisibility cloak to take a walk and hopefully clear his head a bit. He felt strange... almost like he was forgetting something. Something important. He shook it off though as he started roaming the halls.

Everything was quiet. Not ordinary quiet, but the kind of quiet where you can hear a pin drop. Harry wasn't sure if he had experienced such silence before, but if nothing else, he was now. Of course, he should have known that something odd was going on, because this kind of silence just wasn't natural - or at the very least not typical. Not the kind that occurs when you aren't under someone's watchful eye.

In his blissful ignorance, he kept going, no particular destination in mind, just needing to _go._ He could vaguely hear his pulse in his ears as well as his steady breathing, which actually soothed him more than the walking. He kept rounding corners, lost in his thoughts as the minutes went by.

But as he walked, he became vaguely aware of a sound in addition to his footsteps. It sounded a little like extra footsteps accompanying his own, but he wasn't sure. He stopped abruptly and stood perfectly still for a moment, waiting to see if the sound continued, but it stopped just as abruptly as he did. He shrugged and continued on.

The noise continued as well. It couldn't possibly be his own footsteps, because they were heavier and had a different tone, almost how a person's cheeks have two different tones when slapped. It seemed to Harry like it was coming from behind him… and very closely behind him at that. He turned around to check, but there was nothing there.

He kept going, but when it came a third time he stopped dead in his tracks. This time, there was a thump, like something fell to the floor. Harry whipped around, ready for anything.

It was at that moment that he realized two things: what he was missing – the Marauder's Map – and that his feet had clearly been showing from under his cloak, if someone had been able to follow him. Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak and draped it over his shoulder, seeing as he was already busted.

Someone had lost their balance and fell, probably because they had to stop abruptly to keep from walking right into Harry, which could only mean one thing: there had, in fact, been someone right behind him, following him along his path.

Indeed Harry's blood turned to ice as he looked down upon none other than Snape. He seemed a bit flustered as he shook his head and got back to his feet, narrowing his eyes at the boy dangerously; Harry noted the cloak that now lay on the floor where the professor fell, which told him that he too had been using a cloak to stay hidden, one that he must have enchanted with an invisibility charm himself.

"Professor? Er, were you… following me?"

He was. It wasn't difficult to do when the boy was so predictable with his midnight wanderings. But it wasn't because he had feelings for Harry bloody Potter and was trying to find out everything there was to know about him – especially why he has actually been _trying_ in Potions lately. It _wasn't!_ Nonsense!

Snape folded his arms across his chest. "Never mind that. Why are you out this late? You know it's forbidden to be in the corridors at this hour, do you not?"

Harry was speechless. After all, how does one respond when faced with the object of their desire in darkness of midnight? When Snape saw this he took a step closer and said: "I expect an answer. _Now_. You can tell me willingly or I can take you to my office and use Veritaserum."

This was it. There was no way around it. Either way the truth would be pried out of him, and when it was, Snape would surely save Voldemort the trouble of killing him and murder the boy himself – or so Harry thought. He gulped and surrendered himself to his fate.

"It's – it's you, sir."

"It's me _what?_ "

Harry hesitated. He had to put this delicately, so he would at least be killed swiftly and mercifully.

"Well… I… tried to impress you by brewing a potion correctly, see, but it didn't work... I was really upset, so I went to talk to Professor Dumbledore about you to try to clear my mind but it only made things worse, so I thought a walk would do the trick…"

Harry was trying to impress him. And was _upset_ when it didn't work. Snape didn't dare believe the words that were just spoken… did all of this mean what he thought it meant?

No, surely not – it was too good to be true. He made sure to keep the venom in his voice. "Just go back to bed, Potter. Don't let me catch you again."

The Gryffindor didn't need to be told twice. His pulse sped up and he got out of there as fast as he could, leaving Snape far behind; who had almost grabbed the boy by the arm to keep him there, and to profess his love.

Almost.

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 **Next chapter will, in fact, be Christmas Day. Harry will be one of the ones who chooses to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays...so how will things work out when/if he tells Snape how he feels? Because of this question I promise things will get going next chapter, I've just been trying not to rush it is all. I actually already have the next chapter mostly written, so I'm just gunna wait a little while before posting it, a few days or something like that.**

 **But anyways, please review! (Thanks Lily flower forever for yours!) Say stuff! It makes my day! 'Till next time.**

 **~Lottie Lyric**


	3. Assimilation

Stage 3: Assimilation

 _The stage where one applies what they've found out about their love interest to their own personality traits and ways of living, to determine if a relationship would be worthwhile and lasting._

* * *

The few weeks leading up to Christmas went by in a flash, probably because Harry was so busy. As he watched the students who were going home for the holidays leave, and all the lights and decorations get put up around the castle, he was busy mentally preparing to confess his feelings to Snape.

It had to happen – Harry knew this. He had to do it, because if he didn't he'd spend the rest of his life wondering what could have been. He was nervous… who wouldn't be? But these emotions had to get out in the open eventually.

Despite his nerves, Harry grinned as his eyes opened on Christmas morning. He didn't care about the presents, the decorations, or the feast that was to be had though. What he was grinning about was his plans for the day; just the thought of his love for Snape possibly being reciprocated made him smile. Yes, these emotions had to get out in the open eventually. And today was the day.

As far as Harry was concerned, this could only go one of two ways: Snape would turn out to return his feelings and they would be together by the day's end, or by the same time he would be _dead_ by the Potion Master's hand. The latter sounded much more realistic to Harry but he had to take his chances.

He reached out for his glasses and fumbled to get them on. As he got dressed and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, he thought about what was serving as his present to Snape today... his heart, essentially. It wasn't material, but then again he had learned that Snape wasn't a material guy, and neither was he. Some of Harry's nervousness went away when he realized this was another moral they shared, and another reason he felt they were compatible.

Yes, he and Snape were a match made in heaven, and there was no turning back now.

When Harry entered the Great Hall, it was truly a sight. Dry enchanted snow was falling all around, there were twelve towering Christmas trees with real fairies flying all around them, and even festoons of holly and mistletoe decorated the place. The sound of Christmas carols flowed into the room, sung by the many suits of armor around Hogwarts that had been charmed to do so.

Ron and Hermione greeted him from the Gryffindor table, and they both seemed happy that it was Christmas too, but likely for more superficial reasons than Harry was. Indeed everyone in the Great Hall seemed to be in a very light mood today, which was a nice change of pace.

The trio didn't eat much because they were busy chatting and laughing, discussing what they were going to do for the rest of the day. As it turned out, they decided to go the common room after breakfast to exchange presents.

None of the presents happened to be wrapped. Ron gave both Harry and Hermione boxes of chocolate, which he claimed were laced with a potion that could cure any poison.

Hermione then showed Ron over to something by the couch that was covered with blankets. She pulled them off and it was a cage – with a new pet rat inside. Ron was ecstatic; he immediately reached into the cage to pick it up.

After Ron got acquainted with his new friend, Harry reached into his pocket, gesturing Hermione over. He handed her something round – he had made a new S.P.E.W. badge with an updated design for her.

Harry and Hermione were in on the present for Ron together, so Harry gave him some basic supplies to start him off – the most important one being special food designed to raise the rat's intelligence.

Hermione's gift to Harry was the most unique of them all. She handed him a flower – purple, with seven petals with pointed tips.

"It's a special flower Fred and George helped me invent. When you pluck a petal off, the petal always finds its way to the person you love most," she explained to him.

"Wow Hermione," Harry breathed to himself more than her. He knew this present would come in handy somehow.

…

The trio spent most of the day outside. They participated in a few snowball fights, and went to visit Hagrid in his hut afterwards, being treated to cups of hot chocolate. It was the best treat after being in the cold for so long bar none.

All the while, Harry was awaiting his chance to break away and do what he had to do. It was difficult to keep his excitement and anxiety from showing the whole time, but he managed to contain himself through it all.

Come time for the dinner feast, the food was great – roast beef, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce – but the end of the meal was when something happened that made Harry smile: he locked gazes with Snape from across the room. Something felt different from every other time they've done this, and Harry remembered the first time they did, in first year. Snape's eyes were filled with hatred then; this time something about the eye contact made Harry feel warm inside. It was probably all in his head.

It reminded Harry of what he had learned from Dumbledore, about Snape's secret soft side. He was convinced that's what he was seeing right now. It made him happy, knowing Snape had a side to him that no one else really sees. Harry thought about the experience he himself had with people expecting him to act a certain way – which made him feel even closer to Snape. With all of these similarities, how did he and Snape not get along in the past? Harry was sure they could now, if they only tried.

When he left the feast, Harry knew his time was running out. It was at that moment he knew how to go about his task. He went up to the dormitories and allowed himself to doze off… whether the outcome of his conversation with Snape was very good or very bad, he doubted he would get any sleep afterwards, so he may as well sleep now. Besides, late at night was the only time he'd be able to do this without anyone else eavesdropping. If Snape was asleep – well, he would just have to be woken up, wouldn't he?

When Harry awoke around 11:00, his heart was pounding. He grabbed the Marauder's Map from his bag, plucked a petal off the flower he had placed by his pillow and headed out. It was time to see exactly how these petals worked – he was intrigued.

From the Marauder's Map, Harry determined that Snape was in the Great Hall. As he made his way there, his knees felt weak, and his head was swimming; he just hoped he could shake off the feeling in time. What came next was important.

As he made the final step into the room, his eyes had long ago adjusted to the darkness and he could see where Snape stood some twenty feet away. His back was to Harry, gazing up at the enchanted ceiling now peppered with stars.

Harry took a deep breath and said, "Doing some stargazing Professor Snape?"

Snape turned around sharply, startled. While he was annoyed that Harry seemed to always be where he wasn't supposed to, he also couldn't help but admire his stealth – the stealth that Snape also possessed as a double agent. He added this to his mental list of reasons he thought he and Harry were meant to be together but quickly pushed these thoughts to the recesses of his mind.

"Potter? Aren't you late for being an imperious brat somewhere else?"

The words stung, but Harry wasn't going to be deterred; his voice was shaky though. "I- I came here looking for you. I just wanted you to know that despite our history, I don't hate you. And… Merry Christmas."

With that Harry opened up his fist which had been clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and as though guided by a magical wind, the flower petal flew the distance over to Snape and landed in the palm of his hand. Snape looked down at it, then back at Harry, who gradually closed the distance between them until they were nearly face-to-face. The professor seemed to be calculating something with those inscrutable black eyes until his mouth finally opened to form words: "What's this all about?"

Harry mustered all of his Gryffindor courage; overwhelmed, he came out with it quickly, all at once, like ripping off a Band-Aid. "It's about the fact that I'm in love with you."

Harry immediately put a hand on his wand following these words, just in case he needed a shield charm in a hurry. Silence, as if Snape hadn't believed him and was still waiting for his real answer. Harry started backing up slowly to be ready to flee if need be.

But before he knew what was happening, Snape had both his wrists in a vice like grip, preventing him from going any further. The flower petal being held fell to the floor as a result. "I have feelings for you as well Potter. I don't know why, but I do."

Harry had no time to react before he was pulled into a rough yet soulful kiss, bordering on emotional. He couldn't describe the relief he felt at that moment – the tension he had been feeling for the last few weeks just melted away. Sinking to the floor together, Snape rolled over so that his body pinned Harry firmly but not painfully to the floor. Snape's tongue snaked its way into Harry's mouth; the latter wasn't saying he liked the feeling at first, but he wasn't saying he didn't like it either.

When Snape bit down on the side of Harry's neck – hard enough that he was sure to have a hickey come morning – Harry reluctantly pushed him off, sensing that things were about to go too far. It was much too risky here anyway, they could get caught.

"Believe me, I want this, but… I just want to take things slow."

Snape pulled Harry close. "I understand. But… are you _really_ sure you want to explore this? Whatever this is or could be?"

Harry grinned and nodded, clinging to the older man. It sounded like a great idea.

* * *

 **Next stage: honesty, where the couple shows each other their true selves...**

 **And YAY! The site is back up! Sorry for the wait guys, technical issues prevented me from posting it! This chapter was a long time coming. First internet issues then a stupid 503 service unavailable error! *desk flip***

 **I made up the flower thing, I hope it made as much sense on the page as it did in my head? Anyways, 'till next time!**

 **~Lottie Lyric**


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